


On Instinct

by Simplistically_content



Series: To Become a Pack... [12]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Pack feels/dynamics, Spoilers, Stiles being a stand-in alpha, Strong Language, a lot of worrying, based on S03E05, keeping it together for the pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-17 21:59:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simplistically_content/pseuds/Simplistically_content
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's nowhere to be found so Stiles acts on instinct.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the fifth episode of Season 3, but within the To Become A Pack 'verse.
> 
> Set after 'You Just Don't Hurt Pack', it took me a while to work out how I was going to put that episode into this verse realistically, which is why this is so late, but I think I managed it to a point where it fits well enough. I'll let y'all be the judge of that.
> 
> There WILL be two chapters in this installment, the second to be posted tomorrow. I'll probably post the next fic mid-week too :)

Stiles had been waiting.

For hours.

He’d been waiting because he’d promised the pack he would. They’d all demanded he stay behind where it was safe but he was getting antsy, he could feel tiny pinpricks under his skin making their way all over his body, sending shivers down his spine as he bit his nails, nervously pacing the loft.

The plan had been simple. Follow Scott on his hair brained scheme to go and _talk_ to Deucalion. That dude was crazier than crazy with a capital everything and Stiles didn’t trust anything anymore. Erica had been the last straw. He just couldn’t take anymore losses, he didn’t have it in him.

They’d follow him and take out Deucalion, but they weren’t back. They should’ve been back hours ago and Stiles was seconds away from snapping and leaving when the door to the loft opened and he spun around, heart in his throat and watched his pack trudge in heavily.

Boyd, Cora, Scott, Isaac, Alison, Peter bringing up the rear.

“Stiles...” Scott started, stumbling as he took a step forward but Stiles easily side-stepped him.

“Alison,” he said evenly. “Make sure they’re patched up as they can be.” She nodded without arguing, biting her lip. “Cora, do anything and everything Scott tells you while I’m gone. I don’t want to hear you arguing, I’ve had it up to here,” he touched his forehead with his fingers. “With everyone arguing. So do as you’re told. Scott, stay conscious enough to keep an eye on everyone. You,” he turned to Peter, who was already stepping towards the door, car keys held aloft. “Good. Come on.” He walked up the steps, following Peter out the door.

“If he were dead,” Peter said quietly. “You would know; we would all know.”

“Until I see him, your words won’t be as comforting as they should be.”

They searched for hours. Derek wasn’t at the abandoned mall, but his blood was, and so was the blood of the other alpha he’d been fighting. Stiles had searched every inch he possibly could until Peter threatened to drag him out by the hair because it wasn’t safe and if anything happened to him and Derek found out Peter had been with him, Peter wouldn’t be safe either. Stiles rolled his eyes but conceded defeat for the night, insisting that they do a sweep of the town before they drove back to the loft where everyone was healing and watching a movie off the laptop that had been left on the desk - Peter’s, Stiles noted.

“I’ll do another sweep before heading home,” Peter murmured in Stiles’ ear as he eyed the gathered pack, who were all laying on top of one another, save Cora, who was sitting off to the side, but still within arms reach. The pack had accepted her, but everyone had warned her (much to Derek’s irritation) in their own not-so-subtle way that they were watching her. Stiles had had a particularly vocal chat with her that ended in her trying to slash at him with her claws, but he had been quicker and had knocked her down easily with his lacrosse stick.

“No,” Stiles said. He was dog tired, no pun intended, and all he wanted to do was curl up with as much pack as possible and despite everything, Peter was still pack. “Stay, you can look while we’re at school tomorrow. The pack needs to heal, you’ll help them.” his hand had been resting on Peter’s wrist and the man looked down at it, curious, but Stiles didn’t let go until Peter nodded, agreeing. He turned and walked towards the group, stopping when he was on the fringes and felt Isaac reaching out to wrap a hand around his ankle briefly, making sure he was actually there. Stiles reached down and ruffled his hair before he grabbed his sleep stuff from the pillow on the bed they were all leaning against and went to the bathroom. “Grab something of Derek’s if you don’t have any clothes here,” he said to Peter as they passed one another.

When he was sorted, he made his way to the bed and sat on top of the duvet but beneath the thin blanket, then cleared his throat, getting the attention of the pack, who made their way up to crowd around Stiles on the bed. A few playful growls made here and there and everyone settled. Isaac curled up on Stiles’ left, his nose pressed up against Stiles’ neck while Scott and Alison were on his right. Boyd was tucked in behind Isaac, but was on his back rather than spooning - Boyd was too cool to spoon, it used to make them laugh, before he’d disappeared with Erica. Boyd was the one who was most secure in himself and his position, he didn’t feel a need to mould himself to someone for sleep, but he always ended up a little closer to whoever he was sleeping beside when he woke up in the morning. Peter pulled up the old singed and battered Chaise Derek had saved from the old house, up to the side of the bed, and pulled Cora down onto it beside him when it was clear she wasn’t going to be comfortable putting herself between anyone currently on the bed.

Stiles and Peter shared a look and soon enough, everyone was asleep.

\---

The next morning was a subdued one. Derek hadn’t made his way home through the night and by daybreak the pups were restless, but healed up more or less. Scott was still tender around his ribs, but nothing the beta couldn’t handle. After getting promises from Peter to call him if there was any news, Stiles drove Boyd to school while Isaac caught a ride with Allison and Scott.

“He’s here,” Boyd growled when they were all stood together by the buses after home room. The coach had them going out to a track meet to inspire fitness in them all, not that half of them needed it, what with them being werewolves and all but Stiles could deal. He stepped up to Boyd, putting a hand on the guy’s shoulder and squeezing firmly while the rest of the pack crowded around them, looking in the direction Boyd was staring to see Ethan walking towards the group, looking tense, but determined to maintain cover.

“Would you guys quit it already?” Danny muttered as he passed them, rolling his eyes and walking over to greet Ethan.

Stiles was interested to see Ethan giving Danny a genuinely appreciative smile. He wasn’t sure why he was so appreciative; maybe for a friendly face in a sea of so many unfriendly ones, or maybe he was actually mourning whatever might have happened to the brute, Ennis, the night before.

“Stay calm,” Stiles said to Boyd, but making sure his pack heard too. “He’s here, and we have him outnumbered if he tries anything so just... chill, okay?”

“We can’t _chill_ , Stiles,” Boyd gritted out, shrugging off Stiles’ hand and Stiles frowned at him.

“Dude,” Isaac said, giving Boyd a look. Boyd winced but didn’t apologise, he just shifted where he stood, digging his hands into his pockets and scowling.

“Maybe you can’t,” Stiles said suddenly, reaching up to grasp Boyd by the back of the neck and digging his nails into the soft spots as hard as he could to get his point and his position across loud and clear. “But you will - I repeat, _you will,_ keep your cool for this trip. He can’t hurt us, he won’t risk it. He doesn’t even look like he gives a toss what we’re doing because he’s too busy worrying about his own pack, and Danny. Now take a deep breath, and get on the damn bus.” Stiles released Boyd, who let out a low apologetic whine, but nodded and left to get in line to get on the bus, Isaac following after giving Stiles a confused look. Stiles just shrugged, gesturing for him to go.

“That was new,” Scott said from where he’d been leaning back against one of the other buses, watching everything happen.

“Just because I’m human doesn’t make my position any less relevant,” Stiles said and Scott held his hands up, placating.

“Not arguing dude,” he said and he cast his eyes back to where he could hear Danny and Ethan talking as if they were continuing a conversation they’d started before school. “I know you said you didn’t mind Ethan getting to know Danny, and I agree, but how are we going to handle Danny when Ethan decides it’s time to say a huge eff-you to his cover and go join his pack full time?”

“Danny knows what he’s doing,” Stiles said, eyeing the pair, unable to hear the conversation but reading the body language. “He knows the risks.”

“But he’s pack,” Scott’s voice had a worried lilt to it and Stiles knew. He _knew_ Danny was pack. Just like Lydia. But they were human pack members.

“There’s only so much influence an alpha can exert on his human pack members before he becomes a dictator instead of a protector.”

“But you’re human,” Scott continued to push. “Wouldn’t they listen to you more?”

“They don’t think like a wolf, Scott. They see me and Derek together and they think we’re just boyfriends. You see us together and you see something completely different, more raw, more primal. It’s the same with his orders. You have no choice but to obey, they have the freedom to question and decide whether or not to listen. All I can do it try my best to head off any heartache or physical damage.”

“McCall!” the Coach snapped. “Stilinski! Get moving!”

“Ethan wants to talk to you for a second,” Scott whispered and Stiles nodded, holding up a finger to the coach and bending down to untie and retie his shoelace while Scott and Danny got on the bus. When he stood up again and he started walking, Ethan met him so they were walking side by side.

“You can stop worrying about Danny,” Ethan said, his lips twitching.

“You could always stop invading my territory,” Stiles retorted.

“We’re not invading,” he didn’t elaborate so Stiles just waited for him to continue. They watched the coach get on and he felt Ethan grab his arm by the elbow, stopping them before they climbed on board. He didn’t have to look around to see his pack were on the verge of taking Ethan down so in an effort to keep the peace, he held his ground and gave Ethan room to speak. “I won’t,” he frowned, frustrated at something, his fingers twitching in his pocket where Stiles had seen him put his phone earlier. “Danny isn’t a threat, I won’t treat him like a threat. I wont-” he huffed, his eyes flashing red briefly and Stiles could tell he was getting frustrated at not being able to find the words. “I won’t hurt him, you don’t have to look over his shoulder.”

“I’m his alpha’s mate,” Stiles said, satisfied when Ethan dropped his hold and took a step back. “They’re my pups,” he went on. “And you’re hurting my pack. There’s nothing on this planet that will stop me from looking out for him.” Ethan stared at him, unable to think of anything to say. “I’m giving Danny his space on this because, for some misguided reason, he seems to like you. Whether thats physical or he managed to penetrate your thick skull on some emotional level, I have no idea, but this is his game. His rules. Not yours. And I meant what I said the other day - the first time I have to come back to either of you because you hurt one of them, one of you _will_ lose a brother.” That said, he got on the bus, ignoring the coach’s annoyed look.

“What the hell did you say to him this time?” Danny grabbed his arm and hissed in his face but Stiles just stared until his arm was released, again, and Danny was flushing through his still-determined expression.

“Just a friendly reminder of our previous conversation,” Stiles said without even a hint of a smile and walked to the back of the bus to sit by a significantly relaxed Scott. Isaac, who was sat in front of their seat, Boyd beside him, turned around and sniffed the air around Stiles, frowning when he sensed the agitation.

“You need to stop getting in his face about it,” Isaac said and Stiles sighed.

“Not in the mood for a lecture,” he covered his face with his hands and rubbed his face until he could _feel_ how red it was. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Peter, sighing again when he got a reply saying ‘ _no news’_. He sent one back telling Peter to keep at it and closed the messages, staring at the background picture of the entire pack he had on his home screen.

“We’re gonna be on a bus with him for 4 hours, like you said, just keep cool,” Scott insisted. Stiles cast his eyes over his friends and frowned, reaching over to press against his side, frown deepening when he saw red seep through under the pressure. Scott, for his part, hissed, batting Stiles’ hands away. “Dude,” he scowled.

“Why are you still hurt? You were fine this morning. Everyone was fine this morning.” he looked at Isaac and Boyd for confirmation and they nodded. Unable to stop himself, he glanced down the aisle at the back of Ethan’s head and was actually surprised when he saw the head nod once, without any prompting from Danny - in fact, Danny looked confused. “Huh,” he mused, rather intelligently, before turning back to Scott, who now had his stomach exposed thanks to Isaac’s curiosity. “Shit,” Stiles breathed, eyes widening. “No, I _know_ they were healed this morning. Peter _checked_ them this morning, Scott!” he hissed but Scott looked as confused as they were.

“You’ll just have to keep pressure on it to minimise the bleeding,” Isaac murmured. “We won’t stop until we get there. No choice.”

His _life_. If Derek didn’t turn up soon, Stiles was going to kill the moron himself!

\---

Peter sniffed the air around where he found Derek’s blood the night before when he was there with Stiles and tried to get a scent, even though he knew the likelihood of him catching one was lower than it was the 8 or less hours previous. Still...

“Cora,” Peter greeted, watching as his niece let her hand hover over the blood of the fallen enemy alpha, her face holding some distorted mutation of _reverence_ that made him very uncomfortable. He longed to trust her, he truly did. She was family, and he had so few left. Too few. The pack had grown into something that could potentially resemble what he once had but nothing could ever replace it. Derek and Cora, despite all animosity, could give him something of what he had had; he had his revenge, now he wanted peace. But Cora; there were just too many questions. He couldn’t afford to trust someone like that again, neither he nor Derek could, but Derek would forever be blind because she’s his sister. Peter’s only saving grace was the fact that the pack didn’t trust Cora either; Stiles being a key member of that faction. Though they had allowed her entry to keep their alpha appeased.

Peter thought it might be a case of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer.

“Uncle Peter,” she responded, straightening and casting her golden eyes around the room, breathing in deeply, trying to catch a scent.

“What do you think?”

“We left before they went over the edge,” she answered and Peter didn’t react, but he filed the response away to analyse later. “Someone walked out here alone,” she went on without taking note of Peter’s silence. “And someone had help. The question is,” she finally turned to him, worry lining her face. “Which one?”

The million dollar question, indeed.

Peter knelt down and ran his fingers through a pool of Derek’s blood, bringing it to his nose and breathing in very possible molecule of scent his olfactory could analyse and he got up again, walking to the top of the escalator before breathing in again. He transformed into his beta form and crouched down to gather scents that were close to the ground and frowned, catching something familiar.

“Peter?” he heard Cora whisper and he cocked his head to the side, holding up the bloody fingers for her to get the scent of. Once she had it, she transformed and joined him in a crouch. “I smell him,” she breathed and his eyes flashed. “Which direction?” she tried to move a few feet to the right but stopped, frowning.

“We need to be cautious,” Peter instructed. “He’s severely injured.”

“All the more reason to go after him before they do,” she hissed.

“And we will,” he promised. “But unless you want him to attack us in self defense, we must. Be. Cautious. Or do you not recall your mother the year before the fire?” he waited for the memory to hit and nodded when she flinched. “Slow and steady, agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“Follow me, then,” he smiled and took off in the direction the scent was leading him.

\---

“Peter said they caught a scent but they can’t rush finding him if he crawled off alone,” Stiles said and received three confused looks for his trouble. “I think, don’t quote me yet, but I think it has something to do with the wolf being vulnerable? If he couldn’t walk out of there, and he had to crawl to safety, his wolf’s gonna be closer to the surface than ever, because its trying to keep him alive. If they go rushing in there, wolf’d out and bearing down on him, his wolf won’t differentiate pack from non-pack and he’ll attack, no matter how hurt he is.” They were still staring at him. “It can happen, okay?” he said, defensive, and slumped back down in his seat, putting his phone away lest he run out of charge before they hit a stop. “How’re you doing?” he asked Scott after a while and Scott breathed out a snort.

“It’s fine,” he lied, making Stiles roll his eyes.

  
“You need to learn how to become a better liar.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The continuation...

Derek knew it was bad. He couldn’t use his legs, of course it was bad. He dimly heard movement somewhere above (or below, he wasn’t sure of his perspective at that particular moment in time) and forced himself to remain immobile until he couldn’t hear anything from any direction. When he felt it was safe enough, he opened his eyes and took a breath, and promptly started a coughing fit that was pure agony and that lasted what felt like hour - but was probably only a few seconds. He could feel himself healing, his broken bones knitting themselves back together, internal injuries righting themselves with the supernatural first aid kit that was uniquely werewolf but he needed to get to safety. He needed to find somewhere he could hide, where he could heal in peace before he even thought about showing his face anywhere relevant.

He was out of the abandoned mall and into the woods that lined the rear parking lot before he started to get feeling back in his legs; not enough for him to use them but enough to reassure him that they weren’t totally done for.

He wasn’t quite sure how long it took him to drag himself from the far end of Beacon Hills to the centre while avoiding any wondering eyes,he didn’t really want to know but judging by how far along its daily course the sun had made it, he estimated it to be near or close to mid-afternoon. He’d been travelling for 12 hours and all he wanted was somewhere he could curl up in and wallow. Wallowing was good for brooding, which was good for thinking things over and over and stressing on them. Stiles’ words. He snorted, no sound coming out but rather the abrupt and, quite frankly, _painful_ release of air via his nose.

 _Stiles_... he breathed, settling back against on the edge of the lacrosse field. How worried had his mate been? How worried had the _pack_ been? What had they been doing? Had they been searching for him?

Something tweaked in his chest and he flinched, feeling every twinge as his ribs righted themselves, healing from the multiple breaks and he could finally breath properly. Stumbling away from the tree, he walked along the tree line until he could see the parking lot and looked out for any familiar cars; he saw Stiles’ jeep but Allison’s jeep wasn’t there. He was contemplating breaking into the jeep and just covering himself with the blanket he knew to be in the backseat when he caught sight of the woman he’d saved the week before, walking briskly to her car, folders in hand.

Going as quickly as he possibly could, he limped over towards her car, watching as she got herself ready to leave until just as she turned the engine over for the first time, he slapped his hand against her door window...

And promptly fell over.

_Smooth._

She fussed. A lot. But she wasn’t a wolf, wasn’t a threat as far as he knew. She wasn’t someone that could do him more damage.

“Somewhere quiet,” he rasped. “Alone. Please...” She stared down at him, confused. “My loft,” he sighed and finally, she nodded and he helped as much as he could as she manhandled him into her passenger seat and started driving.

\---

“Isaac!” Stiles shouted and Isaac froze, his fist stopping in midair as it was swinging down to hit Ethan again. Boyd yanked him away while the coach just stared, completely dumbfounded, and yelled at everyone to get back on the bus. “Five minutes,” Stiles muttered. “I was gone five minutes. What the hell happened?” he asked Lydia, who shrugged, biting her lip.

“I think Ethan said something and Boyd couldn’t react fast enough to stop Isaac. You’re lucky they didn’t wolf out on each other.”

“I can’t handle this right now,” Stiles groaned, running his hand through his hair and gripping it tightly, stressed, before releasing it. “Make sure they get on the bus please?” he begged and walked over to where Danny was knelt down beside Ethan, dabbing his bloodied face with tissues.

“I think you’ve done enough damage,” Danny snapped, glaring at Stiles, who just gave him a look.

“Shut up,” was all Stiles said to him as he crouched down, grasping Ethan’s chin firmly and examining the wounds. “What did you say to him?” he asked and Ethan snorted. “I may not be able to hurt you, but I know how to incapacitate you and you’re already on extremely thin ice here...”

“You can’t do shit,” Ethan spat bloody saliva onto the ground by Stiles’ feet.

“You’re out here, alone. No one to back you up. I’ve got three wolves and a huntress who are _itching_ to get their claws into you and I’m the only thing stopping them. So answer, the question.” He stared directly into Ethan’s eyes, showing his challenge, giving a direct affront to the alpha wolf within and Ethan started growling.

“Ennis is dead,” he growled and Stiles raised an eyebrow. _Interesting._

“And you provoked my wolf, why?”

“He was _pack_ ,” Ethan hissed and okay, Stiles understood that.

“Did he die from his injuries?” He could understand Ethan lashing out if that were the case. Scott, Isaac and Boyd were all there the night before.

“Duke.” Stiles stared and got up slowly.

“Ever miss being in a pack where the alpha doesn’t kill those under him?” Stiles mused and turned to Danny. “You okay to help him on the bus?” Danny gave him the stink eye but nodded. “Don’t pout, it’s not attractive,” Stiles rolled his own eyes and passed the coach to get on the bus, mind racing. His flipped his phone over in his hands, staring at the blank screen, _willing_ it to flash with life, and blinking when it actually did. “They lost his scent in the woods,” he sighed.

“That means he’s alive though, right? He is alive.” Lydia finished on a statement despite the question and Stiles cast her a long, considering look, but nodded nonetheless. “So that means you,” she turned around to give Scott a look. “Can stop feeling guilty, and you can stop acting like you’re one of them,” she ended, staring at Stiles.

“I’m the next best thing,” Stiles murmured, slumping in his seat and tipping his head back to close his eyes. “Alpha’s mate is a big deal, Lyd,” he went on. “No chance of walking away even if that’s what I wanted - which, for clarification, I don’t.” He doesn’t open his eyes as he holds up a finger to emphasise his point. “They’ll treat me like their alpha when he’s not around and they’ll defer to my word, unless I’m being a dick about it, in which case you all have my permission to call bullshit.”

“On it,” Scott said instantly.

“I hear that,” Boyd adds.

“Already there,” Isaac finished and Stiles chuckled, opening one eye to look at Isaac who’d moved to sit on the seat in front of him and Lydia. “What set you off?” Isaac had the grace to flush.

“Just talking shit about Derek being dead, how he was glad for it... hoped it was a painful end.” Stiles reached over and ruffled Isaac’s hair briefly.

“Dude just lost a member of his pack. Alphas or not, that stings. Don’t take anything he says personally right now.” He cast his eyes down the aisle to where Danny was wiping away the blood from Ethan’s face now that he’d healed up. “We know that pain,” he said and his pack fell into silence.

\---

It was a few hours before Derek was up to walking around his loft without limping. He took in the scents of his pack, concentrated around the bed and felt relief that at least they were being cautious and staying together. He opened up a drawer and saw his phone sat innocently on top of the book he’d been reading, his watch and the wristband Stiles had given him over the summer next to them.

 _“He’s here,”_ he heard his uncle’s voice and tensed. He wasn’t ready, not for this, not for more wolves.

“Stay away,” he growled loud enough to be heard by them and he listened as Peter and presumably Cora stopped before they stepped onto the elevator.

“You invited me here... Begged me actually, to help you?” the woman, Jennifer, the teacher was standing a few feet away, giving him a confused look.

“Not you,” he said, offering some semblance of a smile that he knew didn’t reach his eyes or even look like he tried, but he was refocusing on listening out for his pack so he didn’t pay any mind to her confusion.

 _“You need to call Stiles. Now,”_ Peter said and Derek heard them moving away. _“We’ll be back this evening.”_ And they were gone.

“Thank you,” Derek turned back to Jennifer as he sat down on the bed gingerly. “I can’t begin to explain just how much you’ve helped me.”

“That sounds suspiciously like an exit strategy,” her smile was wry and it was his turn to look confused. “You saved my life last week, showed up in my classroom to check up on me and give me tips, you were nice,” she shifted and he got a sinking feeling in his gut. “I... I don’t even know what I thought,” she admitted.

“Jennifer,” he started. “I...” he licked his lips and tried to find the words - something Stiles had been prying out of him all summer. “I can’t _be_ what you want. I mean, I’m so grateful for your help and I owe you, a lot, but all I can offer right now is this...” he felt his face twist as he grimaced. “I’m a really, really shitty friend,” he went on. “But that’s all I can offer to you. And if I’m honest, I think you’d be better off, safer at least, being as far away from me as possible.”

“Why’d you have to be so damn nice?” she sighed and he frowned, confused, because really, he wasn’t very nice at all.

“Um...” he tried to answer, but settled on shrugging his shoulders and making her laugh.

“I thought I saw you with a group from school,” she sat down on the chaise that hadn’t been moved back to its original home from the night before. “What are you to them? A guidance counsellor?” she was teasing him, he realised, because it was obvious from everything that she’d seen of him, _ever_ , that he was about as much a guidance counsellor as she was a werewolf.

“Something like that,” he answered anyway, smiling. “They just, hang around me. I can’t seem to get rid of them.”

“Ahh,” she said, expression sage and knowing. “Sounds a lot like family.”

“Yeah,” he gave a short laugh. “It is a lot like family.”

“Well then, family man, I think you should call one of them, let them know you’re alive because from the way you were earlier, it looked like you’d been out all night, and all morning, trying to find someone to help you out and I think you may have forgotten that the kids have a track meet today and tomorrow.” She looked amused and Derek found that she was right.

He had forgotten. _Oh shit._

Stiles was going to kill him.

\---

Stiles didn’t open his eyes when he felt his phone buzzing in his hand, just slid his finger across the screen from memory and put the phone to his ear.

“This better be amazing because I was just falling asleep,” he muttered, ignoring as his friends released varying sounds of amusement at his expense.

 _“Stiles,”_ he heard and gasped.

He jerked upright, eyes wide and hand clutching the phone like it was the only thing keeping him alive. His free hand worked its way onto the bar on the back of the seat in front and he held it just as tight.

“Derek?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I expect you've noticed how close I keep it to canon, but not quite. I'm not sure why I do that for some fics and not as much for others, but for the time being it seems to work. If things get a little less what I want in future, I'll be sure to change appropriately :)
> 
> Check out my [tumblr](http://simplistically-content.tumblr.com/) and [recs blog!](http://scfandomrecs.tumblr.com/) Full of fun stuff they are... And follow! Chat! Fangirl/boy at me! I'm open to all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! I hope you enjoyed it :) Let me know if you did!
> 
> A quick note though, I know the way I'm posting the verse is haphazard and I should probably just post it in order, I hope you all understand that sometimes my brain doesn't let me work on the things I need to work on and just gives me stuff it wants me to work on, which is why things are a little up in the air. 
> 
> As things stand, I have two other fics (not including this) of this series written with another five planned and waiting for a spark of inspiration. I appreciate your patience and support! :)


End file.
